


Half the Secret

by pipisafoat



Series: No Secrets [3]
Category: How I Met Your Mother
Genre: Chronic Illness, Disability, Disabled Character, Epilepsy, Gen, Seizures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4439069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"True story."</p><p>Robin always looks skeptical of his true stories, but this time, he's pretty sure there's another quality to it. He spends the next few days dodging her questioning gaze, hoping it never turns into questioning words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half the Secret

**Author's Note:**

> To know that one has a secret is to know half the secret itself. --Henry Ward Beecher

“We’re gonna have sex.”

Barney rolls his eyes. “I know, Ted.”

“Not you and me. Not me and Carl, either.”

“I know, Ted.”

“Me and that girl from the bathroom. We’re gonna have vomit-free sex.”

He cringes a little bit at that description. “That’s a good plan. You should keep all your sex vomit-free.” The door to the apartment opens then, and Barney removes Ted from his shoulders to transfer him to the girl who just walked in. “He’s all yours.”

“Are you leaving?”

Barney rolls his eyes again. “Yes, Ted, I’m leaving. My wingman duties do not extend into the bedroom. I’m going to take a piss and then go home.”

“Hey! I can have sex without you!”

The girl gives him a questioning look, which he returns in full measure. “Have fun.” He strides towards the bathroom, determinedly _not_ hearing anything going on behind him, and shuts the door with great relief. He empties his bladder, zips his pants, and is in the middle of rinsing soap off his hands when it hits.

It’s not rational. He knows, he knows, he _knows_ it isn’t rational, but his brain is not listening to him right now. His heart is racing, he can’t hear anything but a pounding pulse, and he slams the water off as he spins to face the door. It’s shut, there’s nobody in the room with him, there’s nothing there, nothing to be afraid of, but—

He’s whimpering now, quiet high-pitched noises that ratchet louder and louder the more he notices them. He grabs the hand towel off the wall and stuffs a corner of it into his mouth to muffle his cries. His knees hit the floor hard, but there’s not enough room under the sink, nowhere to hide, no space behind the toilet, nowhere, nowhere, nowhere except the bathtub, and it’s big, it’s so big, but he tumbles face-first into it with the towel clenched in his teeth and yanks the shower curtain closed around him. He curls up desperately at one end of the tub, squeezing himself behind the tap, forcing his eyes shut against the fear. His fingers flex desperately on the edge of the tub, and then it’s over, just as suddenly as it started. He feels his muscles start to tremble as they slowly unwind the tension that kept them taut, and he drops his forehead onto his knees as he edges sideways, away from the tap. His fingers release the tub and slide up to curl in his hair, a pathetic attempt at self-soothing.

He’s just starting to consider the possibility of getting his legs under him and getting home while he still can when the bathroom door opens. The silent pee-er takes so long to empty their bladder that his postictal exhaustion is sweeping through his body before the flush, and he gives in as the door shuts once again. He arranges himself carefully around the plumbing and lets his eyes drift shut, hoping the tub will warm up underneath him as he sleeps.

A ringing phone wakes him up, and he glances at the screen, around the part of the room he can see, and back to the screen. Definitely not going to answer; they’ll hear his voice and—

Or they’ll just hear his phone ringing and follow it into the bathroom. “Hello!” he exclaims up at his friends, doing his best to sound like they’ve just entered the most awesome party ever, hosted by The Barnacle.

“Why are you sleeping in our tub?”

Okay, it’s a valid question, even after everything they’ve seen him do. “Uh.” His eyes flick across them all, and he decides in that second that it’s okay if they all know he’s lying. “The porcelain keeps the suit from wrinkling.”

They never really bother to hide the disbelief anymore, which is understandable - it’d be a full time job - but still a little bit annoying. Not even a little bit of effort for their friend? Not even enough of an effort that one, just one of them, could pretend not to know it was something his brain did?

Lily’s face changes suddenly. “Wait, were you here when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night.”

“Don’t worry. I slept through it.” Except he’s pretty sure he won’t be able to keep from mentioning it in the future, even if it does trigger a detailed recap of his night, and Barney likes to think ahead when it comes to making things like this easier on Future Barney. Besides, he can go ahead and be insensitive now; it should distract everybody. He lets out one of his best maniacal cackles. “I totally didn’t sleep through it. Oh, and wow, for a little girl, you got a big tank.”

He sees the frustrated slap lurking behind her eyes, and he silently congratulates himself on changing the subject so effectively.

* * *

It's the first lunch of 2006, and Barney's bringing it in with the same style he always does at a new year - junk food and fancy coffee, with expensive booze on the to-do list for the evening. His office door is shut, feet on the desk, eyes closed, enjoying every bite of his fuck-you to healthy resolutions when his phone rings. He sighs to himself, picks up his phone without moving or opening his eyes, swallows the gummy bear in his mouth, and flips it open. 

"Go for Barney."

"Hey, Barney, it's Lily. Are you busy?"

He resettles in his chair and grabs a handful of chips. "Nothing that can't wait." He crunches the chips loudly and smirks at her annoyed huff. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to ask if you're okay today. And before you say anything, I don't know what was going on last night and I'm not going to make you tell me, but I do know it wasn't faked."

"Not completely," he allows. 

"You're alright today?"

He shrugs to himself. "Tired, hungover, but fine."

"Good."

The silence stretches comfortably, and Barney wonders how it happened that one of best friends is a woman. He's vaguely considering asking her how she tolerates him when he hears her take in a breath. 

"So, if you're..."

"Music helps," he blurts suddenly. "The right music. I know my triggers and how to use them for my own benefit, okay? I just..."

Lily hums quietly when he trails off but doesn't say anything for a long time.

"Anyway. I'm fine." Euphoric seizures, if he doesn't let them get too far, don't have any effect on him once they're over. "So. Thanks?"

"You're my friend."

He hangs up then, fairly certain she understands that's the only way he can agree with her words.

* * *

"What do you and Ted usually do after the cigar bar?"

He laughs. "Are you kidding? Ted's never been here. You've already flown higher and faster than he ever did. Still-" he cuts himself off, leaving a carefully designed pensieve look on his face. Giving her a list of what Ted knows that Robin doesn’t is ... not exactly a good way to keep his secrets. 

"What?"

"Eh." He waves a dismissive hand, hoping she'll drop it, then decides a quick change of subject is on the to-do list. "There is one thing we can do. If you're up for it."

"If I'm up for it? Bring your A-game."

So they ~~are~~ kill ~~ed~~ at laser tag, eat delicious soft pretzels with enormous cups full of every soda mixed together, and then decide to head to the bar. He likes Robin, he really does, but he doesn't want her to know anything. Now that she and Ted aren’t together, now that Ted has moved on from her, he's finally free to fuck Robin out of their friend group. He's gotten a good bro night out with her and would totally enjoy the bang, and then she wouldn't be there to look at him strangely when his brain has a little storm. Home free for Barney Stinson. 

But then there isn't sex, so he tries to play the awkwardness-and-guilt card to edge her towards leaving the group. But that doesn't work, so he tries to use her feelings for Ted against her for a short minute. But that doesn't work, so he decides to try something else another time. She is, at least for this night, a bro, and until he can think of a good ploy to get rid of her, he has a battleship game to win. 

Which he does, by stealing her cheating tactic and adding it to his own.

* * *

“Hello?"

“Ted, it’s Barney. Listen to me, I need you to come and pick me up on the subway."

Ted searches his brain, can’t find any time where they’ve made that a code word for anything, can’t find any reason why Barney might need a code word anyway. After all, he’d just left to go home … using the subway. “What are you talking about?” He should have been home hours ago.

“I was sitting here, totally minding my own business. You know. Riding the subway, learning what it’s like for you people who are forced to use this thing all the time."

“Barney—"

“Anyway, we get to 86th Street. I go to stand up and get off the subway, right? So I can go home?"

“Yeah."

“Well…” Barney takes an inordinately long amount of time to continue. “I sort of fell over."

“You’re still on the subway?"

“Yeah. I pulled myself back up onto the seat."

Ted thinks for a minute. “You sound okay."

“My pride may be mortally injured."

“No, seriously, Barney, I mean, you don’t sound postictal or anything. Then again, it has been two hours. Please tell me you didn’t wait two hours of being postictal on a subway before you called me."

“No. No. I mean, I thought that was what it was at first, so I just sat here until we came back around to 86th again. And they still didn’t work. That’s way too long to be a … you know. And I have feeling in them, mostly tired feeling, but my point is, my legs don’t work. I’ve already ridden the subway twice end to end. I’ve seen where it turns around. Ted, you don’t ever want to see where the subway turns around."

Reassured that it’s not a horrible brain thing, Ted covers the mouthpiece of the phone and turns to Marshall. “Barney’s legs won’t work. He’s riding the subway from end to end because he physically can’t get off the train.”

Marshall raises an eyebrow in silent query, and Ted shakes his head with a smile - okay, maybe it’s a smirk - and Marshall grins. “Best 50 bucks I ever spent."

“Listen to me, Ted! I’m going to lose you any second. I’ve on the fourth car of the six train heading south from Pelham Bay Park in the Bronx. Meet me at the 86th Street station in, like half an hour?"

Ted smirks again. “Alright. I’ll be there. Stay where you are,” he can’t resist adding. He hangs up and looks back at Marshall. “So much for running a marathon without training."

“He did run it,” Marshall allows, “but in retrospect, I should have included some sort of clause about being functional afterwards."

“Yeah, well, you would have to have included a subclause regarding his brain not counting as nonfunctional, since it wouldn’t be race-related - well, if it were race-related, I doubt he’s ever actually run a marathon before, so there’s no way he could predict that one - and since you made the bet in front of Robin…."

“True.” Marshall frowns for a moment. “Next time, I’ll find a way. But still, the idea of Barney stuck on the subway. Worth it."

* * *

He can feel Robin’s eyes on him throughout the whole mostly-fake story Ted tells about teaching him how to drive. They had talked about it, once, about him actually trying, but he refused unless they had a car with the parking brake where Ted could reach it, and then he had a big one, and he gave up after that. He's not sure why he comes out as such a sissy in Ted's story, but it's better than coming out as a brain damaged freak. He meets her eyes when she starts talking at the end of the story. 

"Wow. Sounds like you had some accident in that car."

"Actually, he had two accidents, if you add the fact that he--"

Barney interrupts with some loud noises and a very sincere glare. Yeah, okay, maybe Ted can pass it off as a joke, but he's not so sure he can. Not after actually having an accident in the car during a particularly awful seizure. "I shouldn't even be here, thanks to that death trap," he lies, trying to keep up the facade he isn't even sure who started this time. "But fate ... fate gave me a second chance and helped me to realize that our days on this planet are too few to squander. So I decided from that moment on to continue living life to its fullest."

"So you made a life changing decision not to change your life at all," Lily summarizes, and Barney nods, realizing that's exactly how his decision not to try to get cleared to drive went. 

"True story."

Robin always looks skeptical of his true stories, but this time, he's pretty sure there's another quality to it. He spends the next few days dodging her questioning gaze, hoping it never turns into questioning words.

* * *

"Have you ever tried going to a bar closer to your own apartment?"

"Not really, no." He's not sure if Ted’s still mad for the truck thing - he did get a total stranger to move it to the alley, so he does deserve a bit of anger - or actually trying to help Barney with his obvious excuse of it taking too long to get girls home. 

"Why don't you want me to move in with Robin?"

"You don't really want to."

Ted sighs loudly. "Pretty sure I know better than you what I want. Why don't _you_ want me to move in with her?"

"I'm just looking out for my bro!"

"Barney." It's so soft and warm that he breaks, right there in the back of the moving van, still holding his scissor-kicked crotch.

"Because I don't want her to know about me, okay? Because now there's no smooth 'see you tomorrow' if I need you one night, no 'come on over, Barney' when I ... And Marshall's great, you know that, he's basically the best teddy bear, but you're my best friend, and sometimes I just need you."

Silence falls. Ted eventually moves from where he's been leaning by the door and sits on the edge of the bed beside Barney. "You should've have said something."

"I don't want her to know."

"I wouldn't tell her unless you wanted me to. She can respect secrets. We could have made it work."

Barney freezes. "Could have?"

"Well. Turns out you were right after all, so I'm not going to move in with her."

He scoots closer and presses his shoulder against Ted’s. 

"Look, next time, just tell me what you're thinking, okay? I promise we'll make it work."

"She knows there's something wrong with me."

Ted shifts against his shoulder. "By which you mean...."

"She's been looking at me like she knows there's something wrong. I'm not saying you told her anything, just--"

"Whatever she might think, you never have to tell her anything you don't want to."

Barney smirks a little, and it's enough to bring him back to himself. He straightens up, stops leaning against Ted, and puts his full game face back on. "Well isn't that an interesting change in tune. Why, wasn't it just a year ago you were telling me I didn't have any say in who knew everything about me?"

Ted groans and stands, reaching a hand out to pull Barney up. "Yeah, yeah. Get in the front of the truck. Where do you want me to drop you?"

* * *

“Breakup beards are stupid,” Barney mutters into Ted’s neck, the first words he’s spoken since being carried into Ted’s room and set on the bed.

“For once, I agree with Barney,” Marshall comments from where he’s stretched out, his side pressed up against Barney’s back. “Also, that might have come a little bit out of nowhere, but that’s a pretty solid first comment coming after a sei— a big one like that."

“Disagreed on the beard thing, but agreed on the solid wording,” Ted weighs in.

Barney rubs his face into that spot where it always ends up after a big one. “I don’t like you having hair here,” he explains, feeling like it’s coming out slowly but at least sensibly. “You’re not supposed to be fuzzy. I don’t want you fuzzy when I need you.” He squeezes Ted closer to him with the arm and leg that are draped over his best friend.

“I’m not ready to shave."

Barney isn’t expecting anything from it, but he’s pleasantly surprised the next day when Ted’s beard is trimmed into submission and shaved back enough to leave a nice bare patch for postictal nuzzling. (He’s unpleasantly surprised that he just described it, even in his own head, as nuzzling.)


End file.
